


Not Droids

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, GFY, M/M, fade to black smut, spoilers for season 6 if you haven't seen it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not that I mind a little rough treatment from someone not trying to kill me, but something is bothering you, love.”<br/>"What makes you think that?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Droids

“Rex…..Rex!”  
  
Rex lifts his head from where he had had his lips pressed to Obi-wan’s navel. He meets his general’s eyes, hands still clamped down on the other man’s hips, and has to bite back a groan.  
  
Obi-wan looks wrecked, his hair a mess, his lips red and swollen. Rex can count a line of three purple-red marks trailing down the pale column of his neck, and the sight sends another spike of heat running through him.  
  
But Obi-wan sits up, leaning in to cup the side of Rex’s face, and the lust in his eyes is still there, but it is being pushed aside by concern.  
  
“Not that I mind a little rough treatment from someone not trying to kill me, but something is bothering you, love.”  
  
He strokes a thumb over Rex’s jaw, and Rex shudders at the blatant tenderness of the gesture, his eyes dropping closed as he swallows.  
  
“What makes you think that?” His words come out in a cracked whisper.  
  
“I don’t need to be Jedi to see it in your face,” Obi-wan’s response is soft, and fuck. Rex feels his breath hitch and he pulls away, sitting back on his heels and dropping his eyes to stare at Obi-wan’s left foot.  
  
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” It’s a lie, standing out in his voice as clearly as the scars that map both their bodies. The foot disappears from Rex’s line of sight, as Obi-wan pulls himself fully upright, crossing his legs.  
  
“Rex.”  
  
It’s not a command; off the battlefield, during their rare, private moments together, Obi-wan never commands him, and Rex loves him all the more for it. But it is a request – _talk to me, let me help_ , and Rex is suddenly so tired of concealing the writhing knot of emotion that has lodged itself in his chest over the past year, growing steadily.  
  
He slumps forwards, dropping his weight against Obi-wan’s waiting frame, and presses his face against the crook of the Jedi’s neck. Warm arms come up and wrap around him, and Rex lets out a long, shuddering breath as what is left of his composure cracks.  
  
“Fives,” That’s all he can manage. Obi-wan inhales sharply, realization, and Rex is coming undone with a ragged, half-muffled sob. Obi-wan holds him and says nothing, allowing Rex to vent his grief against his body.  
  
“Fives, Tup, Echo, Waxer…”  
  
The true, bone-deep terror in Fives’ eyes in that cargo bay. Tup’s panic and confusion when he had come to and found himself restrained. Kriffing hells, they had barely even had time to grieve for Echo! Waxer’s horror, even as he died because there were so many dead brothers around them, dead by one another’s hands, hands now stained with blood in a way no clone should ever have to experience.  
  
He cries the names of fallen brothers, there against Obi-wan shoulder. The list is so, so, dammed long. It just pours from Rex’s lips until he can’t speak anymore, and then the silence falls, and he feels Obi-wan’s arm tighten around him.  
  
“Fives, he,” Rex raises his head, meeting Obi-wan’s worried gaze. “He was so scared. He wanted help, he just wanted help and he….” Rex stops, swallows, and finds he can’t finish the sentence. “No one listened to him, until General Skywalker and me.”  
  
“Rex-“  
  
“And he was right!” Rex can feel his temper flare, “There are chips in our heads!”  
  
He taps his temple, a grimace contorting his face. “Controlling our moods, making us _pliable_ ,” he spits the word like it is toxic, “And who knows what else! But we are not droids! We breath, we bleed, we feel! But we were programmed! Programmed to fight, programmed to salute and say ‘Yes sir!’ programmed not to question orders!”  
  
His words are coming fast now, and he’s angry. “Fives was a good man, a good soldier. I watched him from practically day one, and had to hold him while he died, the last of his squad, branded a traitor! He was not a traitor!”  
  
Obi-wan winces, and Rex realizes he has a vice-like grip on the other man’s arms. He starts, forces his muscles to unlock and loosen. He’s left light bruises on the pale skin.  
  
“Fuck. Obi-wan, I’m sorry.” He breathes, eyes widening. Obi-wan only smiles, catching one of Rex’s hands and twining their fingers together. “I’m alright Rex, it’s okay.”  
  
Rex leans in, kissing the bruised skin. “Still. I hurt you.”  
  
“I’ve survived worse. You didn’t mean to.”  
  
“I-I…” Rex feels lost in the face of Obi-wan’s soft voice and easy forgiveness, his anger draining away. “We aren’t droids. We aren’t puppets, or machinery.”  
  
“No,” And Obi-wan’s voice has gone icy, “No, you are not.”  
  
Rex drops his head back onto Obi-wan’s shoulder. “So many dead…and I keep thinking back to what Slick said,” He looks up again. “What’s going to happen to us, when the war is over? Droids can be decommissioned, but we aren’t droids, they can’t…”  
  
The sentence hangs in the air, unfinished.  
  
Obi-wan cups his face with both hands, bringing their foreheads together. “They won’t. I do not know what will happen after the war, to any of us, but I can promise you that, Rex.”  
  
_/I won’t let them/_  
  
Rex gives in to a small smile at the gentle mental touch. “Thank you.”  
  
Obi-wan kisses him, and Rex kisses back, grateful for the distraction. His anger is gone, for the moment, leaving him feeling hollow and he soaks up the contact Obi-wan gives him almost desperately, the kiss quickly turning hot and needy. Obi-wan’s hands slide from his face to his neck, over his shoulders, and slowly down his side, making Rex groan. Arousal had given way to his anger, but it returns in full force now. Rex bites at Obi-wan’s lip, dragging his teeth over the flesh, drinking in the sounds it pulls from the man, and feels warm need settle in the pit of his stomach.  
  
He wants to forget, wants to feel. Obi-wan’s fingers dragging over his skin, the taste of Obi-wan’s mouth, the way his breath hitches, all serves to remind Rex that he’s flesh and blood, that no matter what people say, he is alive.  
  
Obi-wan pulls away, bends his head, and bites at Rex’s collar-bone. _/Stop thinking so much, love./_  
  
His jedi’s mental voice is far too put together for Rex’s liking, and with a noise almost like a growl, he pushes the other man back down onto bed, a new goal firm in his mind and a smirk on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is probably the closest thing to full on smut you will ever get from me.


End file.
